Love, Loss, and the Search for a Place Called Home
by Tansyheart
Summary: I didn't ask to be alone. That's just the card I was dealt. I was destined to walk a long, hard road marred by loss. How could I have known I would lose everyone I loved? All I wanted was someone to love- a brother, a mate, a kit- anyone. I've known love, and I've known loss. I've known greater grief than any cat has ever experienced, and yet, I still have hope. OC.
1. Chapter 1

_**Hey, y'all! This here is the story that has been stuck in my mind for some time now. I had the idea a while back, but am just now putting it down on paper- er, FF, anyway. This story will be told as a narrative, with little to no dialogue- just one cat looking back on her life and telling her story. It's a bit different from my other stories, since I rarely write narratives. At any rate, I hope you enjoy it. Chapters may all be different in length, with some short and some long, depending on where Tansy is in life.)**_

* * *

I was a tiny bundle, a tiny _ginger _bundle. There were three of us- two ginger, one dark gray. We were born in the time of snow, huddled together in a hollow log with our mother, shivering and barely hanging on to life. I could hear the roar of the wind outside the log, rudely keeping the three newborns cold. Even before I could open my eyes, I knew this life would be hard. Mother was tense, so I knew she knew how much trouble we were really in.

Mother was alone. I don't know what happened to her mate. She never talked about him. Ever. All I knew is that she was taking care of us by herself. That meant she didn't leave the log at all the first few long days after we were born. She must have been starving, but to leave and look for food meant her kits would surely freeze, if not be killed by a hungry fox scavenging for food in the deep snow.

When I finally opened my eyes, I was instantly aware of just how bad our situation truly was. I had not expected Mother to be so thin. I had felt her bones while suckling, but she looked pitiful lying in our small nest. Her bones jutted through her dirty, matted gray fur. Her eyes were a dull blue, sunken in her head, almost not seeing her little kits. I was four days old and already thinking about death.

My brother looked just like me, with ginger fur and deep green eyes. Mother said we were the most beautiful kits she'd ever seen- almost identical to each other. My sister was dark gray, just like Mother. And like our mother, she was thin. Pitifully thin. She was so small compared to my brother and me, and considerably weaker than us. She did not open her eyes that day. In fact, she did not open her eyes for many days after I did.

When we were five days old, Mother finally decided to name us. Her name was Juniper- named so because her mother had a fascination in herbs. She had taught our mother about herbs as well, so we were all named after herbs. My brother was Yarrow, my sister Mallow. I was named Tansy. I liked my name. I thought it suited me. It sounded beautiful when I said it out loud.

Mother finally had to go out hunting. She could wait no longer or she would starve, and in turn, all three kits would starve as well. She told Yarrow and me to watch Mallow, who cried piteously as Mother stood up and left the log. With Mother gone, we realized just how cold it really was. Mother had provided much of our warmth. Without her, the inside of the log was icy cold. Mallow shivered and whimpered, her little eyes still pinned shut. Yarrow and I laid beside her, trying our best to keep her warm. He and I exchanged a knowing look- a kind no kit should ever have. Neither of us expected our sister to survive the time of snow.

Thankfully, Mother returned quickly. She had caught only a measly shrew, but was glad nonetheless to find her kits still alive. Yarrow and I watched her eat, wishing we were old enough for meat, but understanding that there was no way Mother could hunt for all of us if we were. Mallow still did not open her eyes.

As time went on, Mother grew more and more anxious. The time of snow was still upon us, and she was still finding it hard to hunt for herself. On top of that, Mallow still did not open her eyes. That worried Mother more than food. She just wanted her little daughter to live. Yarrow and I tried our best to encourage Mallow to open her eyes. We were big enough to play now, and having a third playmate would be great fun. Mallow would not be swayed. Her eyes stayed closed.

Yarrow and I grew larger and more boisterous every day. The bigger we got, the more we wanted to play. Unfortunately, there was little room in the log to play. Every time we would start a game, Mother would scold us saying we were disturbing Mallow. Yarrow and I could only sit and watch our mother and sister. We had no fun, but we did not complain. It didn't feel right, when our sister was so weak. How could we complain about not being allowed to play when Mallow couldn't play even if she wanted to?

To pass the time, Mother told us stories about her past. She was what cats call a 'loner.' She had always been one, and said she would stay one until the day she died. She told us about cats who lived with animals who had only two legs. She said they were called kittypets and were often soft and did not hunt for their food. She told us about groups of cats who lived together in 'Clans.' I asked Mother if it would be better to live in a Clan because she would have cats to help care for all of us, but she just said living alone is better. No one can hurt you if you live alone.

Alone. That's what we were. Alone and cold. I spent most of my kithood wondering if there would ever be a time when I wasn't cold. I wished so much for the warm time to come so Yarrow and I could go outside and play and help Mother hunt. I never thought for a moment that living in that log during the time of snow would be the easy life. I never thought that this was only the beginning of a long, hard road that I was destined to travel. I never thought my life would be marked by pain and sadness. I was a kit, an innocent kit, embarking on a dangerous journey of loneliness, grief, and loss.

_**(A/N: So what do you think? Please tell me. Review like Mallow's life depends on it!)**_


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The day Mallow opened her eyes was was one of the happiest days of Mother's life. That's what she said anyway. It was just an ordinary day. Yarrow and I were bored, just like always, trapped inside our log wishing the snow would melt. I don't know what caused her to open her eyes, but I do know how relieved Mother was to see my sister's eyes at last. Mother said we were two moons old- way past the time most kits open their eyes.

Her eyes were brilliant. I have never seen anything so blue in all my life. Mallow sat there, blinking her eyes as she adjusted to the light. Yarrow and I watched her as she looked around our home for the first time. Mother was out hunting at the time, so she missed this wondrous moment. My sister did not say anything, because she did not ever speak, but she didn't need to. Her eyes said enough for her. They burned with curiosity as she studied her littermates. I flinched under the intensity of her gaze.

When Mother returned, she dropped her mouse, speechless. She flung herself at Mallow, covering my sister with licks and praises. Mallow looked uncomfortable at the smothering attention, which made me giggle a little. Seeing Mallow's eyes made me realize how similar she and Mother looked. They were carbon copies of each other- same soft dark gray fur, same deep blue eyes. But they also had the same frailness. Their skin hung on their bones loosely and their eyes, even though bright, were sunken deep in their head. This revelation darkened the mood of this happy moment for me. I knew that even though something good had happened, our lives were shadowed by darkness.

I wished Mallow would speak. She looked like she had so much to say. Mother at least allowed Yarrow and I to play quietly now, and I could see the want in Mallow's eyes. She wanted so badly to join us. I asked her to play many times, but she only shook her head and burrowed herself closer to Mother. Every time I asked, Mother said Mallow was too weak. I guess I understood that, but I just wanted my sister to be okay, to be normal. I wanted her to be able to speak and play and enjoy life. I didn't want to watch her die.

One morning I woke up to see a bright big ball of light shining through the entrance to our log. Scared, I asked Mother what it was. I didn't know why she laughed. I didn't think it was funny. She said it was called the sun, and it made the forest warm. I watched as she poked her head out of the log. She took a deep breath and looked back at me. Mother said the warm time was coming. The snow would soon melt and Yarrow and I would soon be able to play outside for the first time.

I was so excited by this news. I nudged my brother, waking him and told him about this thing called the sun. He jumped up, begging Mother to let us explore now. She said no at first, but Yarrow and I gave her our best, sweetest looks. Finally she relented, telling us to stay close to the log. I asked if Mallow come explore too, but Mother only shook her head sadly. Mallow looked terrified at the prospect of leaving the log and buried her little face in Mother's fur.

Feeling slightly worried about my sister, I turned to look out the entrance of the log. Carefully, I put one tiny paw down on the white ground. It was so cold! The snow was so bright, and the sky was so blue! Instantly forgetting Mallow, I bolted out of the log, tossing snow up with my paws. Yarrow followed, letting out excited squeals as he kicked the snow wildly. For a while, we could be kits. For a while, we were carefree and worried about nothing. We could play and be wild and be normal. I wished it would never end. The forest was so wonderful with all the snow and trees, and the sun kept our fur warm enough to keep playing.

The sun was a burning orange ball, sinking down in the sky by the time Mother called us back. Sad to stop playing, Yarrow and I dragged our paws back to the log. It was the best day of my life, and I didn't want it to end. Mother and Mallow listened patiently as Yarrow and I told them all about our escapade. Mother looked happy for once. The worry that usually filled her eyes disappeared and was replaced with joy as Yarrow and I told our story. Only Mallow looked unhappy, and she turned her back to us. Suddenly feeling guilty about my fun, I fell silent. How could Yarrow and I have so much fun when our sister was stuck in the log, too weak to even think about playing?

That night I didn't curl up next to Mother like I usually did. Instead, I laid by the entrance of the log, looking up at the starry sky. Mother had once said the stars were cats that had died long ago. I wondered if they could hear me way down here in the forest. I sent the stars a silent prayer, wishing that someday my sister would be strong and healthy. Feeling comforted by the twinkling lights and sure that they heard my wish, I fell asleep, dreaming of the day Yarrow, Mallow, and I would play together and be forever happy.

_**(How is it so far? Review as if it could save Mallow's life!)**_


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

I had never seen Mother so happy. The sight of grass poking through the melting snow made Mother more happy than anything. She said the warm time had come at last. Now Yarrow and I could play outside for as long as we wanted. Now Mother could stay away longer went she hunted and not have to worry about her kits freezing. Now Mallow might finally grow stronger. The warm time had come, and Mother said everything would surely be fine now.

She was gone nearly all day everyday now. Mother said that since Yarrow and I were three moons old, we were old enough to be without her during the day. She trusted us to keep watch over Mallow while she hunted. I was a little sad that Mother would not be home all day, but I knew she had to travel a long way to get enough food to feed all of us. Yarrow and I could eat freshkill now, so Mother had to catch more prey than before.

Yarrow decided that since he was the only tom, it was his duty to protect Mallow and I from danger. He did not want to play as much as before. He sat on top of our log watching for trouble. I didn't think anything would come and hurt us. Nothing had before, but Yarrow said that we couldn't be too careful. I guess I knew he was right. Mother said there were other cats in the forest, and not all of them were nice. She said there were foxes and badgers and dogs, too. By the way she talked about those animals, I knew that not even Yarrow would be able to protect us. They'd be too big for kits to fight off.

In the time of the setting-sun, Mother came back from hunting. Yarrow and I would eat whatever prey she had caught along. Mallow still suckled. Mother tried to convince her to try some mouse, but my sister just shook her head stubbornly. I could tell this worried Mother. If Mallow didn't eat meat, she wouldn't grow big and strong. Yarrow and I were over twice her size now. Compared to us, Mallow looked like a newborn kit, not one who was three moons old. I tried to share my prey with her, just like Mother did, but nothing would persuade the little gray cat.

Mallow still refused to leave the log, as well. During the day Yarrow would sit and keep watch and I would beg Mallow to join us. The sun felt wonderful on my pelt, the grass soft under my paws. I told Mallow this, but she shrunk back and hid in the deepest part of the log, hidden from the sunlight. Yarrow said that she'd be safer in the log, anyway. If danger came, maybe the safest place for Mallow was in hiding. I could tell he was worried, though. He wanted her to come out just as much as I did.

After many days of the warm time, Mother said it was time Yarrow and I learned how to hunt and defend ourselves. She said we were four moons old and would soon be big cats and not need her anymore. I didn't want to think about every having to leave Mother, but she insisted we learn how to take care of ourselves. Every night, long after our prey had settled in our bellies, Mother taught us how to survive. The first thing she taught us was the hunting crouch. She looked pleased to see that I managed to do it perfectly my first try. Poor Yarrow looked a bit lop-sided. Mother scolded me for laughing at him, but I could tell she wanted to laugh too.

Mallow watched us from the safety of the log. I thought she looked a little jealous, seeing the fun Yarrow and I were having learning how to hunt and fight. Mother often asked her to come out with us, but Mallow never did. Even during the day, when the sun was bright and warm, Mallow refused to come out. I tried showing her how to do the hunter's crouch and a few basic fighting moves Mother had shown Yarrow and me. My sister just watched, but didn't attempt anything I showed her. Occasionally Yarrow would climb down from the log and ask her if she wanted to sit in the sunshine, but even that would not entice her to come out. The older Yarrow and I got, the more worried we were. Mallow was only a shell of a cat, and my brother and I were deeply troubled by her frailness.

One day, when the snow had completely melted and flowers had begun to bloom, Yarrow finally found the danger he'd been looking for. A ginger tom was stalking a mouse near the log. I had been practicing my hunting and had been tracking the same mouse. I was so focused on the prey that I didn't see the tom until Yarrow called out. The tom, seeing me, reared back in shock. Frightened, I ran back, hiding in the log. Yarrow bravely asked the tom what he was doing near our nest. The tom said he was just hunting. He didn't know there were kits here. My brother politely asked him to leave, but the tom stared at Yarrow for a moment. After a long hesitation, he asked where our mother was. Yarrow said she was out hunting. The tom asked what her name was, but Yarrow refused to tell him.

I decided the tom didn't seem like a threat, so I padded out of the log, leaving Mallow shivering in the back. The tom stared at me with the same shock he had when he saw Yarrow. He said that Yarrow and I looked so much like him we must certainly be kin. I studied him, confused. We did look alike- he had the same ginger pelt and deep green eyes. He asked if a gray cat named Juniper was our mother. Yarrow still refused to tell him, but I nodded. The tom did not look surprised. He said that we must be his kits. Yarrow told him that we had no father. Mother forbade us from asking about him and he never came around. The tom blinked calmly, then said that Juniper had never told him that she was expecting kits. If he had known, he most certainly would have been there for us.

Yarrow still looked suspicious, but I thought this cat surely was no threat. He asked me what our names were, so I told him we were Tansy, Yarrow, and Mallow. He looked confused and said he thought there were only two kits here. I pointed with my tail to the log, where Mallow still hid. The tom poked his head in the entrance and a terrified shriek sounded from deep inside. Yarrow, angered by the tom for scaring our sister, leaped onto his back. The tom shook the kit off easily and pulled back from the log, holding Mallow in his jaws.

Yarrow ordered the tom to drop our sister, trying to appear brave even though he now knew a kit couldn't fight this cat. The tom dropped Mallow gently on the grass and stared at us. He said this kit was ill, very ill. He asked why our mother would leave her alone. Mallow shook violently, scared by the unfamiliar tom. Yarrow didn't know what to say, and neither did I. The tom shook his head angrily and muttered that a kit this ill should not be left alone for anytime at all.

I was about to reply, when the tom suddenly jerked his head up, alerted by something. He meowed that our mother was approaching, so he had to leave. He nudged Mallow back to the log. Turning to look back at Yarrow and me, he said that he would be returning the next day. Then he ran off.

I sat staring the direction he had gone, so startled by him that I didn't move until Mother padded up to the log. Dropping a young rabbit on the ground, she furiously asked why Mallow wasn't in the log. I hadn't realized that Mallow was just sitting the entrance, still shaking. Yarrow and I both started to explain that our father had come, but Mallow suddenly broke into a deep, horrible sounding cough. Mother pushed her into the log, Yarrow and I hurrying after. Our sister was seriously ill, the coughs ravaging her tiny body. At that moment, all memory of my father disappeared from thought. Mallow was going to die, and that thought consumed my mind for the remainder of that long night.

_**(Will Mallow survive the night? Review for Mallow's life!)**_


	4. Chapter 4

_**(Hey, y'all, I'm going to have a really busy week as Thanksgiving is coming, so I probably won't have a lot of time to write new chapters until next week. If I do find time to write, it will be just be a happy surprise, I guess. In the meantime, if you haven't read any of my other stories, I recommend 'Feathers and Leaves' (how Crowfeather's life would have been altered had Feathertail not died) and 'The Trouble with Rain' (Willowshine, RiverClan's medicine cat, has had a litter of kits, and one doesn't quite fit in). Both stories are finished, so they should keep you busy until I return.)**_

Chapter 4

The day my sister died was one of the darkest days of my life. Literally and figuratively. There was no sunshine that day, only heavy gray clouds and the downpour of cold rain. The forest was dark and our hearts were darker. Mother wailed loudly enough to alert every being in the forest. She covered my sister in furious licks, trying to bring Mallow back to life, but my sister was gone.

Yarrow and I were blamed for her death. Mother said that if Mallow hadn't left the log the day before she would not have fallen so ill. She would not have coughed so hard her tiny sides would shake. She would not have laid still on the nest floor, too tired to move, too tired to care she was dying. Her eyes would not have been glazed over, staring at nothing as her breaths grew more and more shallow. It was my fault and Yarrow's fault she died. Mother was sure of it.

I wanted to tell Mother about how our father had come. It was him who had taken Mallow out of the hollow. It was his fault she died. But I couldn't tell my mother that. Every time I tried to say anything she just snapped at me and said to stay quiet. My sister had died. How could I even think about talking when I should be grieving? My mother's logic seemed to have been thrown away. She just wanted her tiny daughter back.

Yarrow and I stayed huddled in the back of the nest, not knowing what to do. We both wanted to leave and go out for a little while. We wanted to get away from our mother while she wailed. But we couldn't leave. The rain was pouring mightily, and thunder roared high above our heads. To leave the log meant catching our own death. So we sat and watched. There was nothing we could say or do to comfort Mother. Mallow had died, and Mother's heart had shattered.

It turned out my father had been telling the truth when he said he would return the next day. He returned. He saw my mother crouched over Mallow's lifeless body. He saw Yarrow and I hiding, shaking in the back of the log. Father pushed his way into the log, asking what had happened. I had never seen Mother so angry. She yowled horrible things at my father, saying it was his fault she'd gotten pregnant in the first place and she'd never wanted kits. It was his fault we'd been born.

Mother didn't want us. That's what Yarrow and I heard. Mother never wanted us. I felt as if my whole world had come crashing down. How could a mother not want her kits? Yarrow and I pressed ourselves as far back in the log as we could, watching our mother howl words she'd told us never to say.

Father yowled back at her, saying that he wished he'd been here from the moment his kits were born. He said he would have taken us as soon as we were weaned if Mother really hadn't wanted us. But how could he have been expected to care for his kits if he hadn't known about them? Why did Mother not tell him she was expecting?

Mother didn't answer. I could see weariness in her eyes. The fire inside her went out and she fell next to Mallow, mewling like a newborn kit. She was too tired to fight anymore. Father sat down next to her, closing his eyes. When he had calmed down, he said he would take Yarrow and me. He didn't want Mother to raise us if she didn't love us.

This made Mother's anger come back. She sat upright and hissed that Father would only get us over her dead body. He'd caused her to have the kits, and she was not going to give him the satisfaction of getting to raise them. I thought her logic seemed flawed. If she didn't love us, why bother keeping us? That's exactly what Father said, too.

Part of me wanted to stay, though. She was my mother. How could I leave her? Surely she wasn't telling the truth. She must love us. She had to. It must just be the grief talking. She was only upset because Mallow had died. She really did love Yarrow and me, right?

Father lashed his tail. For a moment I thought he would attack Mother. He looked so angry. Then he looked over at Yarrow and me. His eyes instantly softened. He knew he and Mother were scaring us. He told Mother not to yell anymore. Yarrow and Tansy were upset enough already, he said. He was right. I already felt guilty because it was apparently my fault Mallow had died, according to Mother.

Father asked if he could take us. Mother said no. We were her kits, and she was not going to give us up until the day she died. This was coming from a mother who had already claimed to not love her kits, and yet she claimed to want to keep us? Father looked like he wanted to argue, but then a loud crack of thunder rattled our log. Sighing, he said he would not take us in this weather. He would come back when the rain had stopped, and when he returned, Yarrow and I would go to live with him.

After he left that day, Mother buried her nose into her paws and wept. Yarrow and I stayed silent. We were hungry, but did not dare ask Mother for food.

That night, after Mother had fallen asleep, I crept to the entrance of the log. The night sky was dark, with no stars to light to the forest floor. I silently cursed the stars. They had not heard my prayer, and if they had, they had ignored it. My sister had died. There were no starry cats looking down on us. We were alone. I was alone. I didn't know it then, but Mallow's death was only the first of many. I didn't know I would lose everyone else, too.


	5. Chapter 5

_**(A/N: I'm back! Here's Chapter 5. It's a bit shorter than the previous chapters, but still part of Tansy's tragic life.)**_

Chapter 5

Living with Father was different. Very different. Nothing felt real. The forest seemed too bright, the air too warm, the sky too blue. Everything felt wrong.

Father was nice, of course. He had come back after the rain had stopped, just like he had promised. Mother had stayed silent. She said nothing as Father led Yarrow and I away. It broke my heart to leave her, but I knew she could not care for us any longer. Father said Mallow's death had hurt her deep inside. She had injuries that were invisible to us- on her heart, Father said. He said those were the worst kind of injuries and took the longest time to heal. I asked what herbs would make her better, but Father just shook his head sadly. No herbs can help a grieving Mother.

His nest was nice enough. Father had made a home under a bramble thicket. It was safe from predators and well sheltered from the wind and rain. He tried to make it softer for Yarrow and me. He tried to make everything better for us. He let us play outside all day long, and he was content to sit and watch Yarrow and I grow into strong, healthy cats. Father took us with him when he hunted, and taught us the best techniques for hunting. He taught us everything a cat should ever know, he said. He was teaching us how to survive on our own.

That warm-time should have been pleasant. The air was warm and sweet, the prey was plump, and the snow was only a distant memory. Life was peaceful with Father. There was no need to worry about food or sickness. All three of us were healthy, well-fed, and safe. Yarrow and Father grew to be very close. My brother loved our new life and loved being able to hunt and fight. He was happy. And I hated him for it.

I was not happy. I was the opposite of happy. The happier Yarrow became, the angrier I became. I was always in a foul mood. My brother was forgetting our dear little sister, dead from cold and starvation. He was forgetting our Mother, who had tried her best to keep us alive. Yarrow had moved on, but I still clung to the memory of Mallow, Mother, and the stars that ignored my cries for help.

Father tried to cheer me up. He said I was turning into a fine hunter. He said I was turning into a fine fighter. I didn't care. I ignored his praises. I went along with what he taught me. I went through the motions, but emotionally, I was wreck. I was not there- I was back in the log with Mother and Yarrow and Mallow. Father's kindness could not shake the memory of Mallow's death or Mother's wails. All I wanted was my sister back.

The warm-time came and went, descending into the hot-time. Yarrow and I were now seven moons old. Yarrow had grown into a large tom, nearly the size of our father already. It turns out that eating regularly and not starving helps with growth. Yarrow as strong and muscular- almost identical to Father, who doted on his son. I suppose I had grown too, but I was not as muscular as the toms. I had a more slender frame, just like my Mother did.

Father tried to care for me as much as he cared for Yarrow, but it was obvious his love was forced. He found it difficult to love the daughter who rejected his every attempt of kindness. He tried spending just as much alone time with me as he did with Yarrow, but I was silent during that time. After a while, he was silent as well. His few attempts at getting me to talk failed. He kept trying, though. I have to admire his persistence. He really did try to be a good father.

Even Yarrow stopped speaking to me. He had tried to keep my spirits up when we first joined Father, by my anger and depression scared him. He now avoided me as much as he could. I don't blame him. My rage scares me sometimes. I caught a mouse one day and was so angry at everything and everyone that I shredded it into a pulp. It wasn't even recognizable as a mouse by the time I had finished with it.

At night the stars still twinkled. I no longer saw them as a sign of hope, but a sign of destruction and loss. Those stars hadn't saved my sister, and they twinkled still, as if they did not care that a tiny kit had died. I could not trust those stars. As long as they shined, they would only remind me of death. I hated the stars.

Life was not going to get better. I knew that now. If life could take away a kit, then it would be willing to take others as well. I just didn't know how much life would take away from me. Mallow's death was only the beginning.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

It was an ordinary day. It seemed just like every other day- the sun was shining, the air almost unbearably warm, the birds loud and cheerful- but this day only started out that way. By the time of the setting-sun, my life had once again changed.

It must have been toward the end of the hot-time. Father said Yarrow and I were practically all grown up. We were both almost his size. We were nine moons old. Father had been talking more and more about life on our own. He said he had taught us everything he could about hunting and defending ourselves. We didn't need him anymore.

We didn't need him anymore, but there was no way I was going to leave him. Father said that when the snow came we'd be a full season-cycle old, but we could still stay with him if we really wanted to. Yarrow was looking forward to life on his own. He was already talking about traveling outside the forest and seeing new lands. He wanted to go so far and see so much. I, on the other hand, didn't want to leave. I didn't want Yarrow to leave, either. I don't know why we couldn't all just stay together and be a family forever.

As time went on I thought about Mother less and less. I still thought of Mallow. She was in my thoughts everyday, but Mother did not mean so much to me as she once had. I had felt betrayed when she had confessed to never wanting kits and not loving us, and that betrayal had turned to anger. Now that I had a parent that constantly proved his love for his kits, I no longer felt so angry with Mother. I just didn't care anymore. I never said I loved my father. Honestly, I wasn't sure I did. I didn't care about anything or anyone. I felt like all my emotions had been drained, leaving an empty shell of a cat behind.

This didn't mean I didn't want us to stay together, though. I didn't want to be alone. I wanted to stay with Father and Yarrow. I just didn't care about anything else. Life is cruel that way. I didn't want to be alone, so guess what life did to me? But I'm getting ahead of myself. Anyway, that day started out like any ordinary day, but it sure went downhill fast.

It was Mother's fault. If she hadn't come to find us, the day would have stayed ordinary. But she came to find Yarrow and me. We were out hunting with Father when she found us. She demanded Father give us back to her. We were her kits. She had raised us from kithood, not him. Father refused, of course. He said that he had done more for Yarrow and me than she had. He was the one who taught us to hunt and fight. He was the one who gave us unconditional love. Mother hadn't. Father's argument angered her. She yowled that he had no right to his kits. He was a worthless piece of crowfood that should have just left her alone. Mother was crazy.

Yarrow and I were shocked by Mother's outburst. My brother tried to say something to her. I don't know what he wanted to say, because as soon as he opened his mouth Mother screamed at him to stay out it. It wasn't Yarrow's decision which parent raised him, not that we needed to be raised anymore. I didn't add that, though. I just stood there, shaking.

Mother's howling attracted unwanted attention. From a fox. I don't know why it thought attacking four cats was a good idea. It was badly outnumbered, but the fox appeared out of nowhere, springing at Mother. It must have been in a bush, hidden from view. I froze in horror as the fox grabbed my mother by the scruff of her neck. Father and Yarrow both leaped at the fox, trying to get it to let Mother go. It was a strong fox, though. With a shake of its mighty head it threw Father off, sending him flying through the air. He landed with a sickening crash.

Yarrow didn't give up the fight. He realized that digging his claws into the fox's back was not an effective battle tactic. He leaped off of the fox and whirled around, facing the animal. With razor-sharp claws, the ginger tom raked the fox's face. Blood welled in the beast's eyes. With a yelp of pain it threw Mother down and ran off.

I ran to Mother's side. Yarrow padded up beside me, and together we stared down at her mangled gray body. Her sightless eyes were glazed over. Yarrow let out a wail and buried his nose into her fur. Surprisingly, I did not feel the same grief my brother did. In fact, I didn't feel any sort of emotion at my Mother's death.

Allowing my brother to grieve, I turned and walked over to my father. He was sitting up, looking dazed, but not too seriously injured. I looked over his wounds and gathered some cobweb from a nearby tree to put over the wounds. Silently, we watched my brother as he laid next to Mother.

The sun was just beginning to set when Yarrow finally stood up. As we walked back to our nest, I looked up at the sky- now a deep purple. Two stars twinkled brightly, the first stars of the night. Seeing the two stars high up made me think of Mother and Mallow, both dead. Angrily I shook my head. How could Mother have ever said the stars were cats who died long ago? I didn't believe it. I couldn't. These stars meant death. They haunted me. As I padded silently through the forest, I wondered how many more cats in my life would have to die before the stars left me alone.


	7. Chapter 7

_**(A/N: I was asked a good question, so I thought I'd take a moment and answer it. Question: Does this take place in the old territories or the lake territories, and which Clan are they closest to? This actually takes place in the old territories, namely ThunderClan's forest, but after the Clans left. For the purpose of this story, the construction of the road did not completely destroy the forest, but divided it in two halves. The story does not take place too long after the Clan's left, so the cats living in the forest may still have some living memory of them, especially since some of the elders stayed behind. Tansy and her family live in one half of the old forest. Across the road, a group of rogues have formed a "Clan" of their own, thinking it was a good system and gives everyone the best chance of life. It is very small, but will end up being very important to Tansy in the future.)**_

Chapter 7

After Mother died Yarrow changed. I didn't realize how much he had missed her after we went to live with Father. He had bonded with Father so well and seemed very happy with life. Mother's death shook him terribly. He mourned for days after she died. Father was patient with him and let my brother just sit around and do nothing. I could tell Father was worried. Yarrow had never been so quiet in all his life, and he had stopped eating. Father would sit and stare at Yarrow for long periods of time, not knowing how to comfort his son. To be honest, I felt worse for Father than I did for Yarrow.

Unlike Yarrow, I had never forgiven Mother for not loving us. Before her death, Yarrow had justified her words by saying that she was just stressed by Mallow's weakness. Mother certainly must have loved us. I wasn't so sure.

I did not grieve like my brother. I saw grief as a sign of weakness. If he wanted to sit around and mope all day he would eventually starve. Strong cats need to put their grief aside to keep on living. That's what I thought anyway. Father could tell I thought that way, even though I didn't say it. He must have seen the look in my eyes. He said I needed to be patient with my brother. Was I not just as upset when Mallow died?

That was the first time I spoke to my Father since he had taken us. I said I had not been upset- I was downright furious! And _I_ didn't lie around and cry after Mallow died. _I_ had moved on and concentrated on learning to hunt and fight. I didn't let Mallow's death get in the way of my life. I kept my anger to myself and pushed on.

Father must have been shocked to her my voice, and to hear the rage in it. He rounded on me saying that I had not moved on from Mallow's death. If I thought that, I must be lying to myself. My anger was caused by Mallow's death. I was sullen, silent, and kept my rage bottled up inside of me. Father said he was worried that I would explode if I kept all that anger inside.

I didn't want to hear Father's words. I wanted to believe Mallow's death had not caused by anger. It was the star's fault. They're the ones that killed my sister! They ignored my plea for help. They ignored Mallow when she laid dying in our nest. I wasn't angry that Mallow and died. I was angry that the stars didn't help.

I told Father this. My words rendered him speechless. He stood in front of me, mouth open, but did not say a word. Finally he took a deep breath and shook his head. He said it wasn't fair that my sister died. She should have lived. She should have been protected and kept warm and fed. Father said there was nothing the stars could have done. By the time he had found the three of us, Mallow was already to far gone. It wasn't the star's fault. Perhaps it was no one's fault. Mallow was simply too weak to survive.

I sighed, and looked down at the soft green grass. Deep in my heart, I knew he was right. It was silly of me to think a bunch of stars could help my sister. They weren't the spirits of dead cats. They had no power over who lived and who died. They were just lights in the night sky- nothing more.

Something in our argument stirred Yarrow. He stood up and padded over to us, pain still brimming in his eyes. He said Father was right. It wasn't anyone's fault Mallow had died. Just like it wasn't anyone's fault Mother died. Then he looked away from us, hesitating. After a long moment, he mewed that the forest had taken too much from us. Mallow and Mother had died in this forest, and as long as he lived here he would never be able to escape their memory.

I knew what Yarrow was going to say before he said it. Before he said the words I couldn't bear to here, I begged him not to go. Yarrow only shook his head. this forest could not be his home. My brother was leaving. He was going to travel around, see knew things, and maybe settle down somewhere and make a home for himself far away from the forest.

I pleaded with him to stay. How could I lose someone else? But Yarrow would not be persuaded. Father said nothing to keep Yarrow close. He said that Yarrow was finally an adult. He knew how to take care of himself, and Father was certain that he had done a good job teaching his son. Yarrow dipped his head, acknowledging Father's support. Father told him that he could come back any time. Yarrow would always be welcome at his nest.

I watched Yarrow walk away that night, knowing I would never see him again. Now all I had was my father. Yarrow had said the forest had taken too much from us- that's why he left. He didn't know the forest would take even more from me. If I had known my future, I would have gone with him. But I stayed and continued down the path of loss. I had already lost three of my family, and the forest was just getting started.


	8. Chapter 8

_**(A/N: I felt I should give this chapter a warning. Nothing I wrote is "bad", but there is a "bad" thing that is implied a character wants. Reader discretion should be advised.)**_

Chapter 8

I don't know what I did to deserve the kind of life I had to live. Maybe I do something so cruel in the future that the universe decided I had to be punished beforehand. I don't know. What I do know is that life is the cruel one as far as I'm concerned. I don't know who controls the world, but whoever it is loves punishing me for some unknown reason. Just when I think everything's going to be okay, life just saunters in, laughing like a maniac.

It was getting better- it really was! I was upset that Yarrow left, but I knew he was alive. He wasn't dead like Mother and Mallow. I could still hope that he would come back. I'd become less angry at the world. I'd began to enjoy my father's company, and he doted on me like a proud father should. At times it felt like he was smothering me with love. I didn't mind, really. It was nice having that kind of attention. I knew he was missing Yarrow as much as I was, so I was fine with the extra loving I got.

Life just had to rear its ugly head. It can't stand to see me happy, can it? I get my first taste of happy kithood, it takes my sister. I finally have a happy adolescence, it takes my mother. What is life's problem with my happiness? Why couldn't I just live with Father and be happy for a moon or two? Is that too much to ask?

Apparently, yes, it is too much to ask. I guess I should explain what happened. There was this cat- a big, brute of a cat- who said Father was living on his territory. Father said this was no one's territory. Anyone was free to live in this part of the forest. The cat- a vile, foul-smelling, ragged-looking brown tabby- just snarled at us to get away. Father refused, of course. We'd been living here for over half a season-cycle and had never seen this cat before. If this was anyone's territory, it was ours.

The cat was not to be swayed. It wanted our nest. He said that if we didn't clear off he'd kill us. Father, being the brave cat that he is, told the rogue to leave us alone. This was our home and we were here to stay. The cat was furious. He wouldn't listen to reason, he was simply a monster of a cat. When Father again refused to leave, the rogue attacked him. I watched, frozen where I stood, as the cat tore into my father. I had never seen fighting like that. His claws looked longer than any cat's I had ever seen, and they were hooked, ripping out flesh easily.

Father was no match for the rogue, even though he fought with more courage than I would have imagined a cat could muster. At long last, I flung myself at the rogue, trying to knock him away. He merely flicked me off, as if I were a tiny bug. I tried again to dislodge him, but he only swatted at me with an unsheathed claw, as if I wasn't worth wasting his energy on. Defeated, I could only beg him for mercy. I could only beg him to spare my father. He ignored me.

I didn't have time to grieve. As soon as the rogue was finished with my father he turned on me with a strange gleam in his eyes. I pleaded with him not to kill me, too. I'd leave. I didn't mean to cause any trouble. I'd just take my father's body and leave. The cat stared at me, tipping his innocently to one side. He asked why I thought he'd kill a pretty little she-cat like me. I was confused. This cat just ripped my father to pieces- why wasn't he going to do the same to me?

The tabby took a step toward me, saying _I_ didn't have to leave. He just wanted to get rid of my father. He wanted _me. _I didn't understand. The cat laughed quietly at my confusion. He said my innocence was adorable. He rubbed his jaw along my side, sniffing my fur. I flinched, suddenly getting an uncomfortable feeling. I asked him to stop, taking a step back. The rogue gave me a hurt look. Didn't I like him? Wouldn't I like to spend more time with him?

Growing more uncomfortable by the moment, I took another step back. I politely said that I'd rather not spend time with him. I just wanted to bury my father. The tom narrowed his eyes, the hurt in the amber turning to anger. He said I should be honored to be chosen as his. I was to be _his_. Shaking my head, I took yet another step back, trying to find a way out. Suddenly he thrust himself at me, trying to pin me down, belly up.

Terrified, I let out a shriek and raked my claw down his face. As he jerked his head back, yowling in pain, i took my chance to run, tearing myself away from him as fast as I could. I ran farther than I had ever gone before. Not knowing if that vile excuse for a cat was following me, I kept running until I came to a river's edge. Not wanting to cross the churning water, I climbed high up in a nearby tree. Sitting on a branch catching my breath, I suddenly realized I had left my father's body behind. I was now truly alone.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Alone. That's what I was. I had no one. Mother was dead. Father was dead. Mallow was dead. Yarrow was...well, I didn't really know. He could have been dead, too. I'm sure he was. I'm sure I'd never see him again. I was alone.

I stayed in that tree for many days. I was too afraid to come down. I didn't know if that awful cats was looking for me. I didn't want to know what he would do if he found me. If he's the only cat I was destined to be with, I'd rather be alone.

When I finally ventured down from the tree, I was very cautious. I was tense, ready to run if danger came. I was afraid of every shadow, not know what lurked inside. The forest seemed darker than ever. There was little light peering through the leaves that were still in the trees. Many leaves had fallen, blanketing the once soft grass. The sky was a dark gray every day, no sunlight present. The grass became coarse and rough on my paws. Wind buffeted my fur violently, pulling the ginger hairs back uncomfortably.

The air grew colder each day. I knew it would not be long before the first snowflakes of the season with fall. I realized I was now a complete season-cycle old. I tried not to remember the last time of snow. That was a time of hunger and pain, a time of desperation. That was when I spent my days wondering if Mallow would ever open her eyes, or if she would ever speak. Than was when I had family.

I was alone. I had no one. How I longed for someone! I had no brother, no sister, no mother, no father. I had no friends. I had no one to lean on, no one to talk to on those long, cold gray days. I missed having my family. I missed play-fighting with Yarrow. I missed curling up against Mallow, trying to keep her warm. I missed Mother's stories about the Clans who lived in this forest long ago. She had said that Clan cats live together and depend on one another. They have each other for support and care. No one let anyone starve if they could help it. It was a system where everyone was cared for. Now that I was alone, I wished those Clans still lived here. If they were, I'd join one. I like the idea of helping care for others and in turn have others helping me.

I explored every inch of that forest. It wasn't very big- a road divided it in two, and I was not going to cross it. The entire forest was silent. I rarely ever saw another cat, and when I did they just ran off. Everyone was alone here, I guess. It seemed that some had been alone for so long that they had grown used to it and didn't want company at all. I hoped I never became like that. I hoped that someday I would find someone who wanted company just like I did. Someone who would be my friend- my new family.

There is one good thing about being alone, I figured out. If you're alone, you don't have to watch anyone die. Life can't take anyone else from you. If life thought it was going to break me by making live alone, it had failed. It couldn't take anymore from me. Life had torn my sister from my side, ripped my mother apart in its cruel jaws, sliced my father with razor-sharp claws, and drove my brother away. I wasn't broken. Life hadn't broken me. I had won. Life could not take anyone else away. I was alone. I had no one left. Who else could life take?

Yeah...I should never have asked that. I jinxed myself. Life was only getting started. I didn't know that my family's deaths would be the easiest to bear. I didn't know that the deaths that were to come would crush my soul, break my heart, and wear me down. I didn't know that the hardest part of my life was yet to come. I was alone, but that wouldn't last for long this time. I would be alone again, but next time I would be fighting for survival. Not for my own, but for little lives, dependent on me alone. The next time I was alone would be the hardest time of my life.

_**(A/N: Yes, that last paragraph is foreshadowing. That does not take place for a while yet- maybe the next time of snow. Tansy will have a little time of happiness in between.)**_


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

I knew the moment I met him that my life would be changed forever. He wasn't like the other cats in the forest. He wasn't like any cat I had ever met before in my entire life. Well, I've only been alive one season-cycle, but still...this cat was going to change me life. I knew that. I was certain of it.

It was in the dead on the snow time. The air was still and cold, the river a sheet of ice, the ground covered in a thick blanket of snow. I wondered if this snow time was even colder than the last time. Of course, the last time of snow I had a nest. I had shelter. I had a home. This time I had no nest or place to shelter from the bitter cold. I slept in trees, digging my claws in the branches so I wouldn't slide off in the night. There was no prey to eat, either. The last time of snow, I was still suckling. This time I had to catch my own prey, and everything was hiding. I lost a lot of weight. My fur lost its shine. I was a bag of bones. I was the exact opposite of _him._

He had the longest, silkiest, shiniest fur I'd ever seen. It was thick and soft-looking, but shone like the sun on a hot day, which was odd, considering his fur was black. He was all black, save for a fluffy white chest and one white front paw- the left one. He had brilliant amber eyes that shone like stars and twinkled mischievously. He was large, well-fed and muscular. His muscles rippled beneath his glowing black pelt. He was certainly not hard to look at.

I had to know him. There was no other cat like him in the entire forest. Most of them were thin, like me. Most of them were bony and not so muscular. Most of them had eyes sunken in their head and they only had a dull glow. It was the time of snow, so it wasn't they all looked like that. That's what I looked like, too. My ginger pelt hung loosely on my bones. My fur didn't shine. My eyes didn't glow.

He was sitting on the bank of the riverbank the first time I saw him. He wasn't fishing. He couldn't- the river was solid ice. This puzzled me. Why would a cat just sit and watch a frozen river? He should be trying to find food! Not that it looked like he had been missing any meals...

After days of loneliness, I was desperate for company. He was sitting all alone, and I wondered if he was lonely, too. I padded over to him, a nervous feeling growing in my heart. I asked him why he was just sitting there, swallowing my fear.

I guess I surprised him. He hadn't heard me approach and looked a bit taken aback by my question. Then he just shrugged and said he like looking at the river. It was so still and silent, frozen in time. He said he liked watching the snow fall quietly onto the river and the forest floor. It was cold, but beautiful. Nature is beautiful, he said. Nothing is more peaceful than just sitting and watching nature on a cold, leaf-bare day. It made him think, and he liked to think. Nature did that to him, he said.

It was my turn to be surprised. His answer shocked me and only made me want to ask more questions. What's leaf-bare? What did he think about? He laughed at my questions, but it was a friendly laugh. He explained that leaf-bare is the season where the trees are bare. There are no leaves in them.

Oh. I guess I should have figured that one out on my own. It was kind of self-explanatory. I looked down at the ground, embarrassed. I studied my paws self-consciously, knowing he was staring at me, wondering who this dumb cat was and why she didn't understand what leaf-bare was.

He didn't answer my question about what he thinks about. Instead, he asked me if I was cold. He didn't have to ask that, and I didn't have to answer. He could plainly see the answer himself. I was shaking violently, freezing beneath my thin, ragged-looking pelt. He said my paws must be solid ice by now. He said I should get out of the snow and go back to my nest for shelter.

I explained that I did not have any shelter. I didn't have a nest. I didn't have a home at all. The cat looked shocked and said that I absolutely must go with him back to his nest. I was too tired, too hungry, too cold to resist. He muttered something under his breath that I couldn't quite catch, and then he nudged me to my paws.

Silently, I padded after him. The tom didn't seem cold at all. His fur was so long and thick he probably couldn't feel the pierce of the wind. He kept looking back at me, making sure I was still following him. I trailed slowly, using every once of energy I had. The tom stopped and had to wait for me to catch up a few times. Finally he just shook his head worriedly and grabbed me by the scruff of my neck and dragged me. Considering how big and muscular he was, it must have been like carrying a kit. I wasn't much bigger than one.

After what seemed like moons, the tom stopped walking and dropped me gently on the snow. We had stopped at what appeared to be an abandoned rabbit warren, a deep sandy mound with an entrance that led deep into the ground. He said this was his home and where I would be staying from now on. Just happy to get out of the cold for a why, I didn't protest. He pushed me slowly into the den.

It was dark inside, but I could just make out the sight of a nest made of feathers in the center. The tom nodded at the nest, indicating that i should lay down. I did. It was the softest nest I could have ever imagined. I wondered if this was like what clouds felt like it was so soft. The tom laid down next to me, pressing up against me. I asked him why he had brought me here. He shrugged and said he could watch any cat freeze or starve.

I wasn't sure what to make of this cat, but I was glad to have somewhere warm to sleep. Feeling drowsy, my eyelids suddenly became very heavy. The tom noticed and mewed that I should sleep. I was safe now. Everything would be fine now. That's what he said, and I believed him. Warm and happy for the first time, I close me eyes, content to curl up and go to sleep. It wasn't until I was almost out before I realized I hadn't even asked his name.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

His name was Night. It suited him. His fur was as black as night, and his white chest and paw looked like stars in the night sky. Night said he didn't like his name. He said it made him think of darkness and shadows- ominous, scary things. I told him he was the last scary thing I had ever seen. That made him laugh.

He was the nicest cat I had ever met. He demanded I stay in his nest until I regain my strength. He did all the hunting. I don't know how he caught so much. It was the middle of leaf-bare. Where was he getting all this prey? He said he was just good at finding prey. I guess he was. He brought back mice, squirrels, bird, and rabbits. It was more prey than I could catch in the hot-time.

Night and I stayed in that nest all the rest of leaf-bare. He would hunt in the morning and when the sun was beginning to set, but the rest of the time he stayed at the nest with me. We sat and talked all day long. I told him all about my family and how each of them, with the exception of Yarrow, had died. Night couldn't believe I had seen so many deaths in such a short lifetime. He didn't ask about my family too often after that. He didn't want me to have to remember their last moments. I was grateful for that.

I asked him about his past. Where had he learned to hunt? Where was his family? Night didn't really want to talk about his family, either. He said his mother had been hit by a monster and he had never met his father. Night said he was an only kit- he didn't have any brothers or sisters. I said he was lucky. If I hadn't had a sister I wouldn't have had to watch her die.

Night told me more about his life alone. He had actually been born in the twolegplace and had moved to the forest later. He said that when he was a kit the Clans still lived in the forest. There were four of them, but they left when the twolegs built the new thunderpath. Night said a few of the elders had stayed behind. He had met an elderly she-cat named Speckletail right after he had come to the forest, and she had taught him how to hunt properly, and in turn, he kept her company until she died.

Life the rest of that leaf-bare was peaceful. It was just the two of us, warm and well-fed, but I wouldn't want it any other way. We were happy in that nest. For the first time in a long time I felt like I was home. I knew I could live the rest of my life with Night. He was so kind and he cared about everyone. After I was strong enough to leave the nest I went with him on his hunts. Whenever he came across a starving loner or rogue, he'd help them find prey. If they couldn't catch anything, he'd catch something for them. He loved helping others.

One day, when the air was still cold and the ground still covered in snow, a rogue decided he wanted the rabbit Night had caught for us. Instead of asking Night for it, the rogue just attacked him. I stood still, frozen as I watched Night fight off the rogue. I had never seen fighting like that. Night tripped the rogue over his own paws and raked his side brutally. I noticed he was only hurting the rogue enough to scare him- not seriously hurt him. Finally the rogue had had enough and ran off. I asked Night why he didn't fight the rogue as hard as he could. Night only said that no cat should ever have to be killed without good cause. Wanting food is not good enough cause.

After many days of cold of leaf-bare, the sun finally peeked out from behind the clouds. The ground warmed up quickly after that. The snow began to melt, and the air felt warmer on my fur. Night seemed as excited at the warm-time as I did. When the first blades of grass poked through the snow, he bounced around like a kit. He said newleaf is his favorite season. I didn't have to ask what newleaf meant. I could figure that out on my own.

Night said soon the flowers would begin to bloom and the river would flow again. Leaf-bare would soon be over and life would be good again. I told him life had been good ever since I met him. He laughed and said he was sure it had. If he hadn't taken me in I surely would have frozen to death. He said he couldn't imagine life without me- he was glad he had saved my life. Of course, I was even more glad. I was still alive!

Apparently, he had another reason he was glad I was still alive. That night, as we curled up against each other, tired out from a long day of hunting, he said he had a question for me. I turned to him, half asleep, to hear the question that was so important that it couldn't wait until morning. He asked me if I would be his mate.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Of course I said I'd be his mate. What reason did I have not too? Night was wonderful- quite possibly the most wonderful cat I'd ever met. He's taken me in when I had nowhere to go. He'd given me a friend when I had no one to lean on. He was kind and caring, strong and brave. I knew I loved him. I would be content to spend the rest of my life with him.

Night wanted kits as soon as possible. He wasn't as young as me, and wild cats typically don't live long lives. He wanted to be a parent when he was still strong enough to play-fight with his sons and protect his daughters. I wanted kits as well. I vowed to be a better parent than my own mother. I would never tell my own kits that I didn't love them, and I certainly wouldn't keep them from their father!

By the time all the snow had melted, I knew I was expecting. Night was ecstatic. He insisted I eat only the best prey- he also insisted that he catch it all. He insisted that I didn't overwork myself- I didn't want to hurt the kits, did I? His overprotective behavior was a little humorous. I knew he cared. He cared a lot. And he was excited. A little too excited.

Night began thinking of names as soon as I told him I was pregnant. He wanted three kits- two toms and a she-cat. The toms should be given strong, tough names, Night said. He thought Tiger and Storm were good names for sons. He wanted a sweeter, gentler name for a daughter, though. I suggested the names Flower, Willow, or Fern. Night said he'd think about them, but he didn't want to make any final decisions until he saw the kits with his own eyes. You can't name a kit without seeing him, he said.

One day, when the air was sweet with the scent of newly-bloomed flowers and the sun was bright, Night and I took a stroll through the forest. I always felt like walking- laying around was just uncomfortable. As we walked through the forest, our paws cooled by the soft grass and our fur buffeted by the gentle breeze, I suddenly caught a familiar scent in the air. A scent I'd hoped to never smell again. I knew who was approaching long before he appeared.

The ragged-looking rogue was sniffing the base of a tree, obviously searching for prey. When he saw Night and I approaching, the rogue stopped in his tracks. His amber eyes widened with recognition when he saw me. Feeling a bit nervous and afraid, I ducked behind Night. The rogue stared at Night maliciously. He asked Night where he had found me- for I was his mate and had run away from him without reason. His voice hid a veiled threat. I knew the rogue was looking for a fight.

Night told him he had found me nearly frozen to death, and I'd said no such thing as to having a previous mate. Curious, but not trusting the rogue, Night asked me if what the cruel tom was asking was true. I said no, of course. Be that monster's mate- no way! I told Night that this cat had murdered my father and had tried to hurt me in another way.

The rogue claimed I was lying. I was the monster. I had tricked him, he said. He had been tricked by my beauty and he didn't know that I was evil, a vile she-cat who deserved no mate. That was the moment I lost it. I told Night exactly what this cat had done to me and my father. It was clear who Night believed.

Night didn't ask the rogue for an explanation. He sprang at the tom, plunging into him with full force. The rogue, taken by surprise, writhed under Night's weight, but couldn't get away. Unlike the battle with the cat who wanted Night's rabbit, this time he did not go easy in his fight. Night mercilessly raked the rogue with his sharp claws, spitting in his face. He rolled the rogue onto his back, and placed a heavy paw on his throat. He lowered his face to the rogue's and snarled something I could barely hear. I could just make out the sound of Night saying that the rogue deserved this death and that no she-cat would ever be hurt by the rogue again. I had to look away as Night sliced the rogue's neck, ripping his throat. The rogue gurgled for a moment, but soon he was silent.

Night didn't bother burying the rogue. He said that fleabag didn't deserve a proper burial. I thanked him for fighting the rogue, but he said it was nothing. He didn't even have any wounds from the struggle. His fur was too thick for the rogue to puncture. He had made that rogue pay for what he had done to me. I knew I would never be able to thank Night enough for that, even if he said I didn't have to. That was the bravest, most noble thing I had ever seen a cat do.

We walked back to our nest in silence, too deep in thought to speak. When we finally reached our nest, Night asked me if I felt alright. He was afraid the stress of seeing the rogue may have hurt the kits. I told him I was fine. It wasn't stress that would hurt these kits. Truthfully, I was worried, though. I was sure something would happen. I had watched my sister, mother, and father die. What if my kits died, too? What if they were born weak? What if a fox got them? I didn't tell Night any of this, of course. He would just worry even more. As much as I wanted my kits to live, I just couldn't shake the nagging feeling that something would go wrong. Something would kill these kits, I was sure of it.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

The day my kits were born was the happiest day of Night's life. It was the happiest day of my life too, of course, but I didn't keep saying it over and over. Night was acting like a kit himself- bouncing around impatiently and repeatedly asking when they'd finally be born. He had to have asked me at least twenty times. Night was very excited to be a father, but he was getting to be a little annoying. I didn't mind too much, though. I was really just as excited as he was.

We had three, just like Night wanted. Two tiny toms and one little-she-cat were born that day, just before the sun set. One of the toms and the she-cat were ginger like me. The other tom was black with a solid white chest and stomach. They were beautiful. Night thought so too. He said they were the best looking kits the forest had ever seen. They really were, but I was just happy they were strong and healthy.

Night wanted to name the ginger tom Tiger. I thought that sounded like a good name for a strong kit. It suited him with his little tiger stripes. I suggested the name Shadow for the black tom. Night nodded, saying that was a good name, even though he still like Storm for a tom. We decided to same our daughter Petal. It was new-leaf, after all, and the flowers were in full bloom. There were petals everywhere.

Tiger, Shadow, and Petal- three lovely little kits born on a lovely new-leaf evening. They would not have the same memories I had as a tiny kit. Their first memories would not be cold and starvation. They would only know warmth and full bellies- every mother's dream. All three were strong and healthy. I wasn't worried that any of them would have the same fate as poor helpless Mallow. These kits had a good future ahead of them.

Night stationed himself outside the den as a guard after that. He said that even though prey was running well in the forest, foxes or badgers would still be interested in easy meals, and they would be attracted by the mewls of tiny kits. Night sat by the entrance day and night, not allowing anything to disturb his family. He only left long enough to catch something for him and me to eat, otherwise he stayed by the entrance watching for trouble.

When the kits were five days old they opened their eyes. All three of them had deep green eyes, like mine. Night found it humorous that none of our children had his amber eyes. He wondered if our next litter would have only amber eyes, but no green. I didn't care what color their eyes were. I was just happy all three of them opened theirs. I couldn't help but remember Mallow and how long it took her to opened her little eyes. I had to remind myself that my kits were not Mallow- they were strong. They would live.

Night called our kits "little stars." I didn't know he had a fascination in stars. It turned out that as much as I despised the stars, he loved them. Night said the stars were a symbol of hope and life, of bright futures and happiness. I told him what I thought about stars. They were signs of death and destruction. Night sighed. He knew about my past, of course. He wasn't going to try and convince me to like the stars- he knew he couldn't anyway. He just said that maybe I was misreading the stars. Maybe the stars were telling me to keep up hope- not blame them for my family's deaths. I suppose he had a point, but I didn't want to admit it.

The kits really did have beautiful eyes. They were so bright and full of curiosity and wonder. They held such innocence, so much wisdom. Kits didn't know hardships, they don't know about vicious, murderous rogues, they don't know about death. Kits only know love, trust, warmth, and safety. Kits trust anyone who comes their way. They love anyone who looks on_ them_ with love. Sometimes innocence makes the wisest beings, I believe.

Unfortunately, life could not leave well enough alone. Life couldn't let me be happy for a while. Life couldn't let me raise my kits and live in peace. It had to intervene. I seriously believe that I was not meant to live a happy life. For some reason, I was supposed to be miserable all the time. I had been happy for three moons, and that was long enough apparently.

The kits were a half-moon old at the time. They were just beginning to stretch their tiny legs and push themselves around the nest. They had just begun to say their first words. Shadow's first words were "Food! Now!" The torrential rain began just before the sun would have been at its highest, if the sun was visible. It was a dark and gloomy, cold new-leaf day, and the rain poured and poured, long into the night and the next day. Early the second morning the rain started seeping into the nest, dripping from the sandy roof.

I frantically asked Night what to do, gathering the kits close against me. Night was just as frightened as I was. He had never had the nest flood before, but it was clear that was going to be the case. He said we had to get out of the den or we'd all drown. I was worried that the kits would all catch their death out in the cold rain, but we had no choice.

Night grabbed Petal and hauled her out of the den. I followed, carrying Tiger. Shadow scrambled after us, mewling piteously. I set Tiger down long enough to lift Shadow onto Night's back. The little kit was already soaked, and he buried his tiny face in Night's fur. Night and I exchanged terrified glances. We had no idea where to go. We had to find shelter, but everything in this part of the forest was already flooding. Night just gave me a helpless look and motioned me to follow him. I did, but a terrible feeling was welling in my chest. Somehow I knew we wouldn't be able to find a safe, dry place to stay.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

I was right. We didn't find shelter. I don't know how long we were out in that rain, but it was too long. Poor Petal was crying because she was cold and wet, Shadow kept his face buried in Night's fur, and Tiger kept asking if we'd be dry soon. I wasn't able to answer his question. I would have lied to him and told him of course we'd be dry soon and we'd all be alright. But it would have been just a lie- the farthest thing from the truth I could have ever said.

After walking all the way across our side of the forest, Night and I came to the river. We hadn't found any safe place to stay. There wasn't a dry place to be found. Night set Petal down on the soaking riverbank and said we'd have to cross the river. I looked at the raging water in horror. The water level was rising quickly and was flowing so roughly I was sure even the fish couldn't keep up. The stepping stones that usually poked through the surface were far below the water now. I didn't see how we could cross.

Night had an idea. We pushed our kits under a tree and told them to huddle together for warmth while Night and I hauled a thick log toward the river. Night said he would have to swim across the water, pulling the log with him so we would have a bridge. I begged him not to. I was sure he would drown. He said it was the only way we could get the kits to safety. There was a twoleg farm across the river, so there was a warm and dry barn we could shelter in if we could just get across the river.

I still didn't want him to swim across, but I saw his point. Worriedly, I watched him plunge into the water, shoving the log with him. He pushed the log as hard as he could with his paws. I could tell Night was struggling to keep his head above the water, but slowly and steadily he managed to stretch the log across the water. When he reached the other side, Night dug down in the ground to make a rut that would hold the log still. When the log was in place, I actually thought his plan might work. It looked safe enough to cross, anyway.

Night padded back across the log to our side of the river. He picked Petal up in his jaws and I lifted Shadow onto his back again. I then picked Tiger up and followed Night back to the log-bridge. He climbed up on the log, nearly slipping on the soaked wood. I hauled myself up after him, Tiger swinging in my jaws. Slowly we began walking across the log, now bending under our weight.

When we were about halfway across the river, the log groaned violently. I tried to ignore it, pushing the feelings of fear down. We were so close to safety. The log couldn't give out now! But it did. The log swayed roughly, the rain having washed away the rut it had been placed in. A gust of wind finally did the log in, sending it down into the roaring water with Night, the kits, and me with it.

Submerged in the water, I struggled to find the surface of the water. Tiger still hung in my jaws, jerking around uncomfortably as the water flowed around him. Suddenly something hit me under the water. I think it might have been a stone or piece of wood, but I'm not sure. As the thing hit my head, my jaws opened in a silent yell. My mouth filled with water as Tiger slipped away. Panicking, I tried to find my son, but i couldn't see under the water.

I couldn't find the surface of the water. I was running out of air and couldn't hold my breath any longer. Tiger was gone. I couldn't find him in the cold, raging water. I suddenly became very tired, worn out from struggling under the water. The world became very dark and I stopped moving my paws. I felt myself begin to sink, knowing this was the end. I couldn't save myself or my kit. I was drowning.

Sharp teeth suddenly pierced the scruff of my neck. Strong paws were pummeling through the water, hauling me toward the shore. I felt myself being dragged onto the stony bank. Out of the river, I began coughing violently. I didn't open my eyes, afraid of what I might see. A tongue began lapping at my chest, trying to clear my lungs. I coughed up gobs of water, and finally began to breath normally again.

I opened my eyes, the rain blurring my vision. Night was standing in front of me, his amber eyes wide with fright and worry. I thought I could just barely hear him asking if I was alright, but the words seemed mixed up and confusing. The wind roared too loudly and there was so much water in my ears that I couldn't hear straight.

Night didn't wait too long for my reply, which never came. He took me in his jaws again and dragged my across a field of grass. I closed my eyes, trying to shield myself from the wind and rain. I could no longer feel my paws, and my head was throbbing from the blow I had suffered underwater. I wondered if Night was as worn out as I felt. He had to have been, but at least he could still walk. I wasn't sure if I'd be able to.

Finally we reached the barn Night had mentioned. He dropped me in the soft straw and sighed loudly. I opened my eyes. We were out of the rain. We were in a warm and dry place. We had made it to safety. Relieved, I sunk into the straw, feeling as if I could sleep for a moon. It wasn't until I was almost asleep before I realized none of the kits were with us.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

There is nothing that energizes a mother more than the thought that her kits are in trouble. My weariness and pain gone, I leaped to me paws, demanding to know where my kits were. Night didn't know. He said he had also bee hit by something under the water, and that had caused him to lose Petal. He didn't know at what point Shadow had gotten away from him.

I asked why he hadn't tried to save my kits. Night only shook his head sadly. He said he couldn't save the kits and me. He couldn't save all four of us- he could only save one. He couldn't even find the kits in the dark, raging water. It was too hard to see anything, and was pure luck he had found me at all. I wasn't comforted my this at all. I insisted that we must go back out there and look for my kits, But Night said no. It was still pouring and the river was flooding even more. It would be too dangerous to look for them now.

I didn't want to hear his refusal. It sounded to me like he didn't care about them. Little Tiger, Shadow, and Petal were out there cold, wet, and alone, and Night wouldn't help me look for them. Well, I wasn't going to just sit around and wait for the rain to stop. I decided that if Night wouldn't help, I'd look for my kits by myself. He wouldn't let me leave the barn, though. He blocked the exit, telling me it wasn't safe. He said I could get hurt even more or drown out there. He didn't want to lose me, too.

He didn't want to lose me, too. He'd already accepted the kits were gone. I was just about ready to rip his throat out. How could Night think the kits were dead? Surely they were still alive! But Night was adamant that I stay in the barn. We'd look for the kits when the rain stopped. Until then, we would have to wait. There was no use fighting through the weather to find three tiny kits.

Defeated, I sank onto the straw, aware of my exhaustion. I closed my eyes, wanting to forget the events of the day. In my dreams, I was back in my den with my three kits. We were warm and dry and safe. Night protected us and brought us food. Everything was happy. In my dreams, every was perfect. Everything was how it should be.

By morning the rain had stopped. The sun was poking through the clouds, sending rays of light onto the soaked grass. I blinked slowly, not used to the bright light. Aware of my surroundings, I sighed sadly. I wasn't in my den with my kits, I was in a barn. My kits were probably dead. There was nothing Night or I could have done. Now that I was rested, I could think more clearly. It wasn't Night's fault he couldn't have saved the kits, and he was right to keep me from going out in that storm to look for them.

Night brought me a fat mouse. I turned it over with my paws, not hungry. He tried to convince me to eat it- it had been more than a day since I had eaten anything. I took a few delicate bites, but my appetite was gone. I was more concerned with the loss of my kits. I was now sure they were dead. I didn't see how any of them could have survived the long, horrible night.

When I stepped out of the barn, the grass felt slippery and slimy under my paws, not crisp like it usually felt. Night looked as disgusted my the grass as I did. Our world didn't feel right. The grass felt wrong, the sun was too bright, the air smelled like rotting fish, and the wind cruelly ruffled my matted fur.

We slowly made our way back to the river, calling the names of our kits as we walked. Of course, there was no reply. When Night and I reached the part of the river where we crossed, there was no sign of the log we had used as a bridge. It had floated away, carried by the rough waters. Night looked at the high water level and shook his head. I knew what he he was thinking, and I thought the same thing. We probably wouldn't even be able to find their bodies.

Night called their names loudly, searching through nearby bushes and reeds in case one of them had gotten stuck. I searched through the water. I didn't get in the water- it was still moving too swiftly to swim in safely. We walked a long way down the river, calling and looking for any sign of the kits. The longer we looked, the more sure we got that we'd never see the kits again.

The sun seemed to set early that day. Maybe we had just been looking for our kits for so long that Night and I didn't realize how much time had passed. I was just about ready to give up, tired from walking so far, when Night suddenly let out a bloodcurdling wail. It was almost too dark to see what had excited my mate so much, but he was running toward something. Then I saw the tiny mound lying across the river. Night wasted no time plunging into the water, swimming to the other side. Without thinking of my own safety, I plunged in after him.

It way a tiny mound of fur. The black fluff was pressed hard across the little body, making it seem even smaller. Night nosed the kit urgently, begging him to move. Shadow lay still, no breath coming from him. I bowed my head low, letting out a soft whimper for the death of my little son. Night wouldn't believe Shadow was dead. He continued nudging the kit, trying to wake him up. When the tom finally realized Shadow would not awaken, Night wailed loudly, lifting his head to the starry night sky. His wails echoed through the trees, alerting everyone close by of our family's tragedy.

I stared up at the stars, more angry than ever. How could Night see them as a symbol of life? These stars were cruel and cold. They took what is perhaps most precious of all- tiny kits, totally dependent on their parents. How much farther could these stars go to make sure I lived a life of suffering?


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

I couldn't believe the kits were gone. All of them. All three gone in just one night. Little Shadow's mangled body had been badly beaten by the rough water, stones, and branches that had been tearing through the river. I wasn't sure I even wanted to find the bodies of Tiger and Petal. Surely they'd look just as bad if not worse than Shadow.

Night was a wreck. He laid by the shore of the river all that night and most of the next day, curled around Shadow's body. Eventually I had to force him up to his paws. We had to bury our son, and I knew Night would never be able to recover if he could still see our son. He didn't say a word as I nudged him toward the line of trees. He stared at Shadow's body with hollow, unseeing eyes.

I managed to put aside my own grief to bury my son. My heart was ripping itself into pieces, but I tried to put a brave face on for Night's sake. I hoped Shadow had died quickly, but I couldn't help but think if he had drowned, if would have been a long, miserable death. All I could do was hope that something had taken Tiger and Petal more quickly. If they had been hit by a rock or branch in just the right place, it might have killed them instantly and they wouldn't have suffered. It's a horrible thought for a mother to have, but I couldn't bear to think of the alternative.

After Shadow was buried I stared at his grave, shaking my head sadly. He would have been a fine cat someday. Shadow was every bit as strong as his father. My son would have made an impressive loner, rogue, or whatever he would have become. It was a shame he had been taken while so young. He was even younger than Mallow was when she had died.

Long after the moon was at its height, I finally pulled myself away from Shadow's burial place. Night, who had watched from close by, hauled himself to his paws. Together we walked back to our nest in silence. Neither of us had anything to say, our heart's too heavy with grief for the three young lives lost in the flood.

It was a welcome surprise to see that our den had not been washed away. It had not flooded as badly as some other places in the forest. The nest was damp inside, and the feathers than lined it were gone, but the den was still there. I crept inside it, painfully aware that the rain had washed the scents of my kits away. I had hoped the nest would still hold their smell, but it instead smelled like rain and dirt. It was probably a good thing, though. Now Night and I couldn't be constantly reminded of our kits.

I laid down on the sandy floor of the den. It was cold and moist, but it was still home. Night took a long time to enter the nest. He sat outside for a while, staring at the stars. I could hear him whisper a silent prayer to the cold, blinking lights. He asked the stars not to take anymore kits away from us for as long as he lived. Then he thanked the stars for allowing me to live. I shook my head in disgust. He acted like the stars cared and would actually help us. I knew different. These stars he liked so much had stolen our kits from us. These stars had taken my sister, my mother, and my father. They didn't help- they destroyed!

When Night finally pushed his way into the den, he curled himself around me and closed his eyes, not saying a word. I sighed miserably. We were alone again. Just a few nights ago we had stayed up late trying to get three energetic kits to got to sleep. Now the nest was silent. There was nothing to keep us up. Oh, how I wished the kits were here! I missed having them running around, trying to avoid going to sleep. I missed having their tiny bodies curl up against me, emitting happy squeaks as they drifted off to sleep.

The morning was no better. Night had no motivation to get up. He just laid on the sand, staring at his paws. I let him be- I wanted to do the same thing. One of us had to keep up with our normal daily activities, though. If we both moped around, no prey would be caught and our bellies would be empty. As mush as I would have liked to stay in the den with Night, we had to eat, and I was going to have to find the food.

The sun was bright and warm. I raised my face to the light, feeling the hot rays hit my cheeks. The grass was dry now and the forest was lit up and greener than ever. It was a beautiful morning, even if it had been preceded by a horrendous storm. Apparently the prey was also happy to see the bright new-leaf morning. The forest was teeming with mice, squirrels, a birds. It certainly was no chore catching enough to feed two cats.

I dreaded going back to the den. I had caught two squirrels and and a sparrow- good for a short hunt. If I went back to the den, I'd be back with Night, enveloped in sadness and pain. The warm sun, the cheerful forest, and the abundance of little animals were so much more joyful than my nest. The world was happily unaware that three kits had died, that a tom was engulfed in grief, that a she-cat was trying to put aside her own grief for the well-being of herself and her mate. The forest had raised my spirits- why did I have to go back to the dark world of sadness?

Night hadn't moved in all the time I was gone. I nudged one of the squirrels toward him, but he only turned his head away. I offered the sparrow, but he just shook his head. Sighing, I ate the other squirrel, wondering if life would ever go back to the way it was. Knowing what life had already done to me, I guessed that my life would only get worse. I may be happy for a moon or two, but there was one thing that was always the same in my life. No matter what happened, this feeling of grief, sadness, and pain would be there.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Night did eventually eat. It took him three days, but he ate. I knew he was still upset, and would be for a long time, but I was glad to see that he wasn't going to starve himself. Even if it was just a tiny mouse, Night ate. He would get better. I knew he would. And he did. Of course, I was just as sad as he was, but one of us had to carry on. If we both had stopped eating, we'd wither away.

I did find myself missing the kits. I tried not to think about them, but it was difficult sometimes. It was new-leaf. A better name for the season would be new-life. It seemed like every living creature had little ones. There were tiny baby birds just learning how to fly. There were little baby squirrels scampering across the forest for the first time. Night and I even came across a nest of baby foxes. We hurried away, of course, but there were babies everywhere. We couldn't escape them.

I wondered occasionally what their lives would have been like. I think I imagined whole futures for each of them. Shadow would have been just like his father- strong and brave, yet kind and caring. Tiger would have been a fighter- the toughest cat in the forest. Petal, oh sweet Petal, would have been the gentle queen who despised confrontation and conflicts. They all would have been marvelous additions to the forest.

The rest of new-leaf was relatively peaceful. Night was quieter than he had ever been before, but the warmth and cheerfulness of the sun was the best medicine a cat could have. There are no herbs that can mend a broken heart. The sun stayed bright for many days, and Night grew happier each day. I grew happier each day. Our lives were beginning to seem normal again, like they were before we had the kits. Normalcy was good. That's what we needed.

New-leaf turned into green-leaf. The air turned hot and stuffy, but the sun still shone. Night started speaking as soon as the heat began taking a toll on his heavy, black fur. He complained, but it was good to hear his voice again. He said he was ready to get back to life now. He was tired of being miserable. It's not like misery can bring the kits back, right?

I was glad for this change of heart. I had my Night back. He seemed to be his old self again. I occasionally wondered if it was only an act, but I pushed those feelings of doubt away. He was eating. He was talking. He was healthy. The sun was shining, the flowers were in full bloom, and there was plenty to eat. There was absolutely nothing to complain about.

Except for the heat. The sun blazed, almost burning the grass on the forest floor. The prey was lethargic, so hunting was easy, but it was much too warm. I was almost wishing it were leaf-bare. Night knew how to keep cool, though. It turned out he liked to swim. I wasn't so keen on the idea, but the water in the river was cool. Night had found a portion of the river where the water was shallow. He could stand in the middle and his paws could still touch the pebbly river floor. I preferred sitting on the shore, watching him splash about. It was good to see him so happy. Night had returned to his usual joyful, energetic self.

One hot green-leaf evening, Night asked me how I felt about having another litter of kits. I wasn't sure I wanted to have another litter right away. It seemed like it was only yesterday when we lost the first litter. But Night was adamant. He wanted kits, and he didn't want to wait. He had had a perfect family, and the rain had took them away. Leaf-fall was coming in a few moons, so the second litter would have to worry about drowning, he claimed.

But I was still uncertain. Sure, the chances of having two litters drown was very small, but there were other problems could arise. If I got pregnant now, the kits would be born at the beginning of leaf-fall. They would still be very small when leaf-bare started, and then what? Starvation? Freezing? Surely those would be even worse deaths than drowning!

Night said that I worried too much. He was right, of course. Sometimes _I_ wonder if I'm ever _not_ worrying. Besides, maybe having another litter of kits right away would be a good thing. Maybe if I had another litter it would help me get over the deaths of Tiger, Shadow, and Petal. I'm pretty sure that's why Night wanted kits, anyway. I told myself to stop worrying. I really needed to stop. I did want kits, and what are the chances of two litters all dying? They'd have to be really small.

So, I got pregnant. I could tell early on that this litter would be bigger than the first. I felt heavier faster. As green-leaf dragged on, I felt myself growing continually. Night said I was huge. Almost as big as a monster, he said. I felt like one, too. But I was happy, and that was important. Night and I were both happy. This litter would be different, Night would be a father, and I would be a mother, and we'd all be happy.


	18. Chapter 18

_**(A/N: Sorry...again. I know this is the third time I've switched stories by mistake. Erg...)**_

Chapter 18

I was ready for this litter to be born. I was miserable. Miserable and huge and hot. Night found it funny- my complaining. I don't know why he found it so funny. I was uncomfortable and he had a good laugh at my grouchiness. It was good to see if him laugh, though. For a while after the loss of our kits I had wondered if he would ever be happy again.

We spent a lot of time that green-leaf down by the river. I tried not to think about my kits and how they were swept away by the raging water. It wasn't raging now, of course. Now it ran gently and the stepping stones jutted out above the surface like they were supposed to. The water was nice and cool on these hot days. I didn't get in and swim like Night did, put I did dip my paws in. It felt wonderful.

Green-leaf was surprisingly peaceful. I was glad for it, though. I enjoyed settling back into life with Night. It was just the two of us, together, living life happily. He and I were content with sleeping under the stars at night- he thought the night air was cooler outside the den. We were content to sit in the shade of the large oak trees and watch the world go by.

As the days went on, I got larger and larger. Night had fun guessing how many kits were going to be in the litter. He said it had to be more than three because I was significantly larger. I thought there may four kits- I'm not sure I could handle anymore than that. Night thought maybe I would have five or six. He said if I did have six he wanted three toms and three she-cats, perfectly even. Even sounded good, but maybe with four kits rather than six. That just sounded like too many.

One day Night decided to explore across the thunderpath that divided the forest in half. He said he hadn't cross the road in season-cycles and barely remembered what it was like. From the side of the thunderpath, the other side looked identical to the one we were on. It was forest, just like where we lived. It had the same oak, maple, and birch trees, same soft grass, same bramble thickets- it was just like home. I didn't see a reason for Night to cross, but he was dead set on it.

We sat by the side of the thunderpath for a long time, just staring at the forest on the other side. Occasionally a monster roared past and we would jump back to the shelter of the trees. Finally, after what had been most of the day, Night decided it was time to cross. I had a bad feeling about it- who knows what danger lurked on the other side? What if the forest there was teeming with foxes, badgers, dogs, or perhaps even worse? And besides, he could get hit by a monster while crossing!

Night just told be not to worry. Everything would be fine, he said. I didn't have to go with him. I said I would sit exactly where I was, but I still didn't want him to cross. He just laughed and licked the top of my head. Again he said I worried too much. I snorted, but I knew he was right. He'd be fine.

He padded up to the side of the thunderpath. Night looked to his left, and then looked to his right. His black ears swiveled as he listened for the rumble of a distant monster. Once Night was sure it was safe, he set a paw tentatively on the stony surface. I watched him carefully, digging my claws into the ground. Night slowly padded across the ribbon of black stone, still cautious as he watched for monsters. None came, thank goodness.

He disappeared into the forest, where I couldn't see him. I didn't move from my spot on the side of the thunderpath. I waited for a long while, watching the occasional monster drive past. After many moments, the sun began to set. The sky turned from blue to pink to purple, with dark clouds dotting the evening sky. Sighing, I laid down on the grass, wondering when Night would ever come back. I wondered if he'd be back before the moon was at its height.

I shouldn't have wondered. I was beginning to drift of to sleep, bored and tired of waiting, when I heard a terrified wail. My green eyes shot open and I bolted to a standing position. Night ran out of the forest, obviously terrified of something he had seen. He didn't stop when he got to the thunderpath. He didn't look for monsters. He didn't see the big blue monster barreling down the stony surface, roaring loudly.

I screamed at Night to stop, to stay back. He didn't hear me. He didn't stop until he collided with the the monster. It let out a loud shriek, but didn't stop as Night went flying through the air, landing on the side of the thunderpath with a sickening thud. I froze in my spot, staring at his broken and battered body. Blood began to pool beneath him, and his eyes were closed. It didn't take an intelligent cat to tell that Night was dead.

Frozen to the ground, I couldn't move. My bones were suddenly much heavier, my muscles much tougher. My breaths became ragged as I fought for air, not being able to take my eyes off of Night. A sharp pain gripped my stomach without warning, causing my to collapse on the ground. Terrified, I let out a wail. The pain rippled through my body as I shook- half in grief for Night, half in grueling pain. In my shocked state, I didn't at first realize what was happening. When I finally hit me, I became more terrified than ever before. My kits were coming. My shock had forced the kits to come, and they weren't due for over a half-moon.


	19. Chapter 19

_**(A/N: I know, I know, I switched the chapters again. I don't know why I do that. But it's fixed now. Chapter 18 is up. Here's Chapter 19.)**_

Chapter 19

There are a lot of thing herbs can cure. I know that. Mother taught Yarrow and I all about herbs. But I discovered one thing they can't cure- premature kits.

I was in shock- I knew that. I had gone into shock after Night's death and now I was in labor. I couldn't stop the kits from coming. They weren't supposed to be born for another half-moon, but they were coming now, and it was going to be painful. Actually, it was the most painful experience of my life. My stomach felt as if someone had slashed it with sharp claws as fiery pain coursed through my veins. I was panicking, of course. I'd just seen my mate die, and I was upset enough already, but now the kits were coming early, and I was absolutely terrified.

I wailed loudly, unable to keep my pain inside. My howls rang through the forest- I could here them echoing through the trees. No one came to my aid. Every living being in the forest would have heard me, but we were all rogues- no one wanted to help anyone else. We were always supposed to be alone, even if we really didn't want to be. Honestly, the last thing I wanted was to be alone. I wanted Night.

The pain was almost too much to bear. I cried horrendously loud- louder than thunder during a new-leaf storm. My sobs shook my body savagely. I couldn't be sure whether my sobs were caused by Night's death or the gut-wrenching hurt I was experiencing. I flexed my paws, sheathing and unsheathing my claws to relieve some of the pain. I tried getting up and walking a few paces. Nothing worked. Moving only made the pain worse.

Night soon fell. The moon rose high in the sky, and stars dotted the darkness. I wanted to be back in my den. I wanted to be home. I was alone at night, when the foxes hunted, and my cries surely alerted every threat there could have been. I yowled for help as loudly as I could. No one came. I was desperately hoping for some one to come to my aid. I found myself wishing Mother or Father or Yarrow would suddenly appear, ready to tell me everything would be alright. I wished Night was there by my side. My wishes were all in vain.

Finally, after I had been laying by the thunderpath for most of the night, the kits finally came. There were five of them- five, tiny, helpless bundles that shouldn't have yet been born. Their birth was exhausting. I felt like every ounce of energy had been drained from me. I was still so greatly in pain that I couldn't even lift my head to see if the kits were alright. Too tired and too sore to move, I led the wave of darkness take hold of me as I closed my eyes.

* * *

There were five kits in that litter. Night was right- it was a larger litter than my first. There were two toms and three she-cats. Both toms were ginger, like me. So was one of the she-cats. The other two were black with white chests. One of the she-cats had one white front paw. She looked almost identical to her father.

Night had died. Night was gone. He had left me when I needed him the most. He had wanted these kits, and now he was gone. He had pressured my into having another litter, and he wasn't around to help take care of them. I had no one. I was alone raising kits I hadn't even wanted. Mother was gone, Father was gone, Mallow and Yarrow were gone, and Night was gone. All three of my first litter were gone. Literally every single cat I had ever loved was gone. I had lost everything. I had lost everyone.

I wasn't sad anymore. No, no. The sadness had been overcome. I would no longer feel nothing but pain and grief. I was stronger than that. Besides, it wasn't my fault they all had died. I was no longer sad, but the sadness I had once felt was replaced by a new emotion- anger. I was furious. These _magical_ stars that were supposed to be signs of life had taken my entire family. These _wonderful_ stars that Night loved so much had been my undoing, my destruction.

Any sadness I had once felt was now forever gone. In its place was a bitter rage. If the stars wanted to take everyone I loved away from me, I wouldn't let them. I would avenge Mallow's death. I would avenge Mother and Father's deaths. These stars weren't in control- I was. If anymore cats were destined to die, then I would cause their deaths.

I stared at my kits, feeling the rage burn deep inside me. I didn't love these kits- I hated them! I didn't want them, and now I had five helpless scraps and no mate to take care of them. I could feel my fury burning in my mind. It burned so fiercely it hurt. I wouldn't let the stars take these kits. Oh, they would die, but I would control their deaths. I was in control. I alone would choose which cats lived and which cats died from now on.

Feeling an intense wave of rage and power, I grabbed one of my sons with my paw, batting him away from his siblings. He squeaked piteously, not understanding what was happening. I flipped the kit onto his back, exposing his kitten-soft belly. Raising one paw, claws unsheathed, I sliced the kit down his stomach. Watching his breathing become shallow and ragged gave me a strange sense of relief. When the kit lay still I heaved a sigh, a relaxed, pleasurable sigh. I tossed the kit's body into a nearby bush and turned toward my surviving kits. I was Tansy, and I was in control. No one could stop me now.


	20. Chapter 20

_**(A/N: Sorry I haven't added a new chapter in a few days. I had a long car-trip one day, and then I was busy. Christmas break is always a hectic time in my family. I probably won't get a chapter up every day.**_

_**Featherflight- thank you for the name suggestions, but I decided the names a long time ago, and they do have a special meaning. Tansy is going to have a third litter, though, so maybe I'll use your suggestions then.)**_

Chapter 20

Darn kits. All they do is cry and make noise. I hate them. They are terrified of me, of course. They saw me kill their brother. I told them I'd kill them to if they didn't behave. I wish they'd all just die on their own, so I won't have to kill them. Leaf-bare is coming, so maybe the bitter cold and starvation will do the work for me. The last thing I need right now are four mewling kits. They are such a nuisance.

I wish Night hadn't died. I can't take care of these kits by myself. He left me and now I'm alone. I hate him for it. I hate the kits and I hate Night. It isn't fair! I did nothing to deserve this life. Night just _had_ to go exploring across the thunderpath, and he just _had_ to get hit by a monster because of it. Stupid tom. Why on earth did he need to cross the thunderpath in the first place?

I haven't named the kits yet. They're going to die soon, so I should I bother with names? Even if I did name them, I would only grow attached to them and then they'd die, and I'd be miserable. Not this time, though. I wasn't ever going to be attached to these kits. I wasn't ever going to love them. The stars had tried to break me, and they had failed. I had won. They couldn't hurt me by taking these kits. They couldn't ever hurt me again.

My heart had turned to stone. I knew it, but I was proud of it. I was no longer a sweet, gentle, loving cat. Cats like that are weak. They deserve to suffer like I did. But I was strong now. I no longer suffered from the disease of love. I no longer felt the power of emotions. I felt nothing- I was as hard as a rock, as strong as a bolder, as cold as leaf-bare. I had learned to care for no one but myself. Caring only leads to hurt and betrayal. I'll have none of that.

These stupid kits! All they ever do is whine and want to play, want to cuddle, want to eat, and want to be warm. They think I should take care of them, and complain when I don't. They cry because their bellies are empty. They're hungry, but I don't care. They can find their own food, or they can starve. They're only a moon old and should still be nursing, but if they want to survive they'll have to grow up fast. I really don't care whether they live or die. If one does manage to live, I'll be impressed.

My living son keeps annoying his sisters. He tries chasing them around and knocking them over. The she-kits don't seem to like it, but it's funny to watch. They cry so loudly when he bowls them over and pins them to the ground. I only stop him when the she-kits' cries grow to loud and start to bring unwanted attention. I don't need every rogue in the forest knowing I have kits.

One night a storm raged overhead. It reminded me of the day I lost my first litter. I wondered if perhaps Petal or Tiger might have survived. It was unlikely, of course. It was probably impossible. The river was moving so fast and was filled with so much debris they were probably killed quickly. Night and I were lucky to find Shadow's body. The other two had probably been swept far downstream and were lying at the bottom of the river.

Thinking of the kits brought a wave of sadness to my heart. I shook my head to clear it. Sadness was a sign of weakness, and I was not a weak cat. I told myself I didn't care my first litter was gone. I didn't miss them. I couldn't! I was not the same cat I was when they had died.

The storm scared my four living kits. They were huddled together in the corner of our nest where they slept each night, far away from me. One of my daughters kept begging me to let her come over by me. She was terrified. Her brother tried to act brave, and hit his sister on the head and called her a weakling. She squealed as his claws connected with her face. The tiny she-cat tried to fight back, but the nest was small- too small for two kits to bicker. The two of them erupted in an explosion of loud screeches and rolled around their side of the den.

I snapped at the kits to stop. Why couldn't they just go to sleep? Their other sisters were pressed up against each other, sheltering themselves from the fight. At least those two were being well-behaved. My son and daughter's fight rolled over into my nest, and the tom threw his sister against me. I jumped to my paws, snarling at them. I had told them to stop fighting, and they had disobeyed. I had threatened my kits with death for disobedience, and that would be their punishment.

The two begged me for forgiveness, but I wouldn't hear of it. I was beyond furious. I pushed them down and sunk my claws into their tiny chests. I bent down, looking them in their terrified little eyes as I bit their throats. They died quickly. Pleased with myself for dealing with my badly behave kits, I threw their bodies out of the den to be battered by the storm.

The living kits were more terrified than ever. Now instead of being afraid of the storm, they were afraid of their mother. My little daughters pushed themselves as tightly against the far corner of the den as they could, watching me with terrified amber eyes. They said nothing, just shook violently.

Seeing them so scared hit a nerve. I had murdered three of my kits! How could I have done such a terrible thing? My own kits were afraid of me. Sighing, I sunk onto my nest, angry at myself and who I had become. I was not a brutal kit-killer. I was not an evil monster. I was Tansy- a loner and a mother. My heart twisted inside my chest. I had become something no cat should ever be, and I had to stop.

I beckoned my little kits to come to me. Silently and cautiously, they stood up. A pang of sadness went through me as I saw how much they resembled their father. Both were as black as Night was, and both had the same amber eyes and white chests. One had a little white front paw, just like he had. My kittens crept slowly to me, and I pulled them close, wrapping them tightly around me with my tail. I held them tighter than any mother ever has.

I would not kill these two kits. These kits would live- I was sure of it! I would do whatever it took to make sure my daughters survived to adulthood. Nothing would ever hurt these kits. As they relaxed against me, I heaved a sigh of relief. I could regain their trust and be a mother to them, and that started with naming them. I stared at my daughters for a long moment, and the perfect names came to me. One would be Mallow- after my dear little sister. This Mallow would survive, though. I named the kit with the white paw Star, after the very things that had taken so much from me. The stars thought they could take everything from me, but I had won. I had my own star now. I was still in control. They couldn't hurt me anymore. My daughters would prove that. Star and Mallow would be my own little stars- my little miracles and signs of life and hope. We would survive.


	21. Chapter 21

_**(A/N: Hey y'all, I'm back! I know it's been three weeks since I wrote the last chapter, but I've been extremely busy. Now that I'm back at school I should have more time to write. I don't know if I'll be able to post a chapter daily like I used to, but I'll write when I can.)**_

Chapter 21

I will never forgive myself. Star and Mallow are young. Hopefully the memory of their mother murdering their littermates will fade with time. They will trust me eventually. They will see that I am not the same cat who brutally killed their brothers and sister. Star and Mallow will forgive me, but I cannot. They may not remember what I did, but I will have to remember it for the rest of my life. I had been a monster, and my breakdown had cost me the lives of three of my kits.

If I didn't have Star and Mallow, I probably wouldn't have the strength to go on. I would become a shell of a cat, hiding away from all other life forms, waiting to die and pay for what I did. I wouldn't have the hope that someday life would be good and my kits would be happy. My daughters were the best medicine a troubled she-cat like me could have.

Leaf-fall was long and tiresome. I was still grieving for the loss of my kits, but tried to put a brave face on for my daughters. They were frightened of me for a while after the deaths of their littermates, but after some time had passed and they saw that I had changed, they slowly began to trust me more. Still, I wondered if they would ever truly forgive me, even though I kept telling myself that they would not remember what happened by the time they were grown up.

The air grew colder as my kits grew larger. It became increasingly hard to find food. It had still been fairly warm when the kits were suckling, but by the time they were ready for solid food, leaf-bare was approaching quickly and the prey was disappearing. Star, the bigger and stronger of the two, demanded that she help me hunt. She was only three moons old, but she was determined to do all she could to help feed us. Mallow wanted to hunt, too. Neither kit seemed to want to play like normal kits would at their age. They both seemed to realize that they would have to grow up faster than most kits. If they wanted to eat, they had to help. I couldn't catch enough prey for all three of us.

Star was a quick learner. She could copy my movements with pinpoint accuracy. She was a little unsteady and a little more impatient, but nonetheless showed the signs of being a brilliant hunter someday. Mallow was a little slower. She could do the hunter's crouch fairly well, but became extremely frustrated if her efforts didn't pay off. I told her she was still very young to be a hunter and would eventually be able to catch prey as well as any adult cat. I don't know if she believed me.

The snow was thick and wet that leaf-bare. It came down continuously for days, covering the forest floor. At first Star and Mallow were awed by the white frozen flakes, and they enjoyed playing in the snow for a short while, but it soon grew too cold for comfort. The snow was deep, and the temperature was dropping drastically. We stayed in our nest, huddling together for warmth, but we were still freezing. It was no use going to look for prey- every living thing in the forest would be doing the same thing we were. It was too cold for anything to be out of their den.

Mallow asked me how long the snow would be here. I wish I could tell her it would all melt soon, the air would be warm, and prey would be plentiful. I couldn't lie, though. The snow would be here for a long time if it stayed this cold. We would just have to stay in our den until it was warm enough to go out. Star wanted to know how we would eat if we could only stay in our den. I couldn't answer her. I didn't want to think about what would happen to us if we couldn't find any prey. If the snow didn't melt soon, I would have no choice but to go and look for help. I was not going to watch my last two kits starve or freeze to death.


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

It was icily cold. Even in our den I could feel the cold air pierce through my thick ginger fur. Star and Mallow huddled tightly together, a black ball of fluff with bright, frightened green eyes. I tried to tell them that everything would be okay. The snow would melt soon and then we'd warm up. They didn't believe me. I didn't believe me. We were freezing in our usually warm nest.

Starvation was another matter. It was too cold to venture out into the snowy forest. Even if I did go out to look for prey, I wouldn't find anything. Mallow asked me whether we were going to die of the cold or of hunger. Three moon old kits should not be thinking about death. Hearing her piteous questions tore my heart. How could I keep my kits alive?

Star bravely volunteered to go out hunting. She wanted to help so badly. She knew I was worried and we all knew what would happen if we didn't eat. I wouldn't let her go, of course. It was just too cold for a kit to be out there in the forest. We couldn't hunt, so I tried to get the kits mind off the cold and hunger by playing, but neither wanted to. Star said she was too hungry to even think about playing. Mallow said she couldn't see what good playing would do. In the end, we'd still be cold and starving.

One miserable night the wind roared high above our nest. It had started snowing again, and this time the air was even colder and the wind even stronger. A blizzard had come to the forest and was showing the forest creatures no mercy. The woods were loud with the sound of the raging wind barreling through the trees, tearing branches off the old oaks and maples that dotted the forest. Snow began drifting into the den. With the wind moving so fast, the snow came in quickly, stinging my eyes.

It was Mallow who said what we were all thinking. We had to leave. Our own den couldn't keep us safe from the leaf-bare storm. If we stayed one more night, we all would die. She was right, of course. I'd been thinking about leaving for awhile, but couldn't bring myself to go out into the snow. But now I realized I had no choice. Even worse, my kits would have to come with me. I wondered if taking them out in this storm would mean instant death.

I told them we were going on an adventure. I wanted to make our journey sound fun. They weren't buying my story. Star and Mallow both knew what might happen if they left the den. Star refused to go at first, but Mallow said that if we didn't leave, then we'd be dead my morning. If we left, there's at least a chance of survival. She sounded uncertain, as if she were trying to convince herself as she was her sister.

I nudged my daughters out into the freezing snow, which was now deeper than my kits were tall. Star and Mallow sunk into the white ground, shivering. I followed them out of our den and padded in front of them, digging a hole in the snow for them to stand in. I would have to dig holes our whole trip, just so my kits could actually walk.

Snow stung our eyes and the wind tore right through our pelts. Snowflakes were blowing so fast that it was hard to see. We moved very slowly across the forest, Star and Mallow complaining for most of the journey. Eventually, they were too tired and cold to talk. We moved in silence after that, my with the realization that if we did not find shelter soon my kits would freeze to death.

Somehow we wound up by the thunderpath that divided the forest in two. I don't know how we got there- I had been trying to get to the barn Night and I had sheltered in long ago. I guess I had gotten my directions confused because it was dark and the blowing snow made it hard to see. I figured me had better cross the thunderpath. There was no shelter on our side. I bent down and scooped up Star, telling Mallow I would come back for her.

The only good thing about the blizzard was that there were no monsters out that night. It was too cold even for them. I could cross the thunderpath quickly without having to worry about being hit. I got to the other side of the forest and set Star down on the side of the thunderpath while I dug a place in the snow for her to sit. Telling her I'd be back with her sister, I left her to run across the the thunderpath.

Once we were all together our journey started up again. By now even I was tired. The cold was making my eyes heavy, and my paws began dragging in the snow. It began to be increasingly difficult to dig holes in the ever-deepening snow for my kits, who were now trying hard to keep their eyes open. Eventually they could not fight the cold any longer, and neither could I. Sinking into the freezing snow, I closed my eyes, wondering if this was the end for Star, Mallow, and me.


	23. Chapter 23

_**(A/N: I know the chapters have been a little short, and I'm sorry for that, but I'm writing what I think needs to be written how I think it should be written. I will write longer chapters for chapters that need to be longer.)**_

Chapter 23

I heard voices. I thought I must have imagined them. I was dead, right? I froze to death in the blizzard- I was sure of it. But I did hear voices talking quietly. I was also no longer cold, but warm. Confused, I opened my eyes. I was in a den that had been dug deep into the ground, preventing the cold leaf-bare wind from entering, yet allowing sunlight to stream in.

Staring at my surroundings, I was even more confused. I had been placed in a mossy nest, and my kits were sleeping in little nests next to me. The den smelled of dried herbs, and shreds of tiny leaves dotted the sandy floor. I had no idea what kind of place this was or who had brought me here. My only hint was the voices murmuring softly outside the den.

My many questions were answered when a gray tabby she-cat padded into the den. She introduced herself as Foxtail, deputy of BrightClan. I had no idea what the heck "BrightClan" was, or a deputy, for that matter. Foxtail went on, saying that a patrol of warriors had spotted my kits and we while on a patrol and had brought us back. More questions poured into my mind. Warrior? Patrol?

Foxtail soon realized why I had never heard of BrightClan and their warriors- I came from the other side of the thunderpath. She explained that BrightClan had been created by loners who lived in this part of the forest. The Clan was modeled after the old Clans that left many moons ago. Local loners had liked the idea of living with a group of cats and sharing responsibilities- all taking care of one another. This way, Foxtail explained, no one went hungry. They were all safe as long as they were together.

I was still confused my all this information, but I remembered Night having mentioned the Clans before. He had known some cat named Speckletail or something who had come from one of the Clans. Foxtail recognized the name right away. She said Speckletail had trained BrightClan's first leader and had taught the loners how to work together. She went on to say that BrightClan was on its second leader- Maplestar. Foxtail was certain that this Maplestar would let Star, Mallow, and me join her Clan.

I wasn't sure I wanted to join the Clan, but I knew I couldn't keep my daughters alive on my own. Delighted to hear that I would stay, Foxtail said that she was going to tell Maplestar the good news. She left, flicking her tail happily as she exited the den. After watching her walk out, I turned to stare at my kits. Was this really the best choice for us?

Star and Mallow began to stir. Once they opened their bright amber eyes, they showered me with questions, wanting to know where we were. I tried to explain as well as I could, but I was still as confused as they were. Star immediately said she didn't want to live with a bunch of "smelly rogues." Mallow thought it might be a good idea, though. She said maybe now we'd all be able to eat and stay warm.

Maplestar came down into the den soon after. She was a pretty pale-cream colored cat with sparkling green eyes, and a personality to match. She seemed kind and friendly, and said that of course we'd be welcome in her Clan. Her only concern was Star's name. Apparently "star" was a sacred name and should only be used a title for the leader. I tried explaining why I had named my daughter Star, but Maplestar was adamant that the kit's name be changed.

Star, being a rather stubborn kit, refused to even consider changing her name. She flatly told Maplestar that if she couldn't keep her name, she'd leave. Truthfully, I felt the same way about her name, but I couldn't leave and risk having my kits freeze. Thankfully, Maplestar relented. She wasn't happy about it, but she didn't want to see my daughter leave the Clan she had just joined.

The leader said we all would be required to take Clan names, though. That was not negotiable. For now, my daughters would be Starkit and Mallowkit. Maplestar decided that for now, I would take the apprentice name of Tansypaw until she could decide on a warrior name for me. Thinking that settled the matter, Maplestar said it was time to introduce us to the rest of BrightClan. Turning to leave, she motioned with her tail for me to follow. As I led Starkit and Mallowkit out of the herb-smelling den, I wondered if I had made the right choice by staying.


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

Starkit, Mallowkit, and I followed Maplestar as she walked up to a tree stump in the center BrightClan's camp. Effortlessly she leaped to the top of the stump, calling the Clan to gather around. I sat down at the base of the stump, my kits by my side. Starkit watched the cats come around with wide, curious eyes while Mallowkit studied the ground, seemingly uncomfortable in front of everyone.

There weren't too many cats in the Clan- just a few warriors, apprentices, and a queen with young kits. I realized why Foxtail and Maplestar had been so quick to invite my daughters and my to join their group. They wanted more members. They wanted their Clan to grow in numbers. A young queen with kits was the perfect candidate for membership.

Maplestar was kind in her introduction, explaining to her Clanmates that the three cats they had rescued from the snowstorm would be joining the Clan. The cats stared at us with friendly eyes, and a few called their welcome. The leader announced that I would earn my warrior name as soon as I learned the warrior code, and until then I would be called Tansypaw. There was a few uncomfortable reactions to Starkit's name, but my kit stubbornly hissed that would keep her name and that was that. The grumbling turned into quiet laughter- they were amused by the kit's boldness.

Foxtail padded up to me and said that I would be joining Honeywing in the nursery. The deputy beckoned to the golden tabby queen, who strolled over, giving my kits an approving glance. The queen said she'd take my daughters to the nursery to play with her kits while she showed me around the camp. Mallowkit glanced shyly at the three kits standing behind Honeywing, but Starkit seemed pleased to have some playmates. She introduced herself to Honeywing's kits, and the four of kits bounded off, ready to start a game. I nudged Mallowkit gently, pushing her in the direction the kits ran. She stared after them uncertainly, but after hearing their happy squeals, she slowly padded after them.

Honeywing watched the kits for a moment, her whiskers twitching in amusement. Her kits were called Stormkit, Hawkkit, and Swallowkit, she informed me, and they'd be thrilled to have some new friends. From the way they had immediately welcome Starkit, I believed the queen. Now that my kits were finally in a safe place where food was assured, they'd be able to play and get into trouble like any normal kit. I was happy to see that my daughters could now have the kithood they deserved.

I padded after the queen as she showed me around the camp and introduced me to my new Clanmates. As I had noticed before, the Clan was small. Honeywing said that BrightClan had only been around for three season-cycles, so they were still growing. She also explained that The first leader- a cat called Snowstar- had named the Clan BrightClan because it was created so that all forest cats could have a bright future. More and more cats in the forest were realizing that BrightClan was a good thing for the forest, so new cats did frequently join. Honeywing added that her kits were the first litter born into BrightClan- all the other Clan cats had been loners or rogues before joining.

The there were only six warriors, three toms and three she-cats. The toms- Jayclaw, Ashfeather, and Bramblestorm- all seemed nice, but said that they wished another tom had joined. The Clan now had four more she-cats that toms. The she-cats- Sorrelcloud, Cinderleaf, and Breezeflight- on the other paw, were extremely happy to have a new Clanmate and friend. Every car in BrightClan seemed friendly. As Honeywing finished introducing me to every cat, I was liking my new home more and more.

The queen mentioned that the only position the Clan lacked, but needed, was a medicine cat. I mentioned that I had knowledge of herbs and how to treat injured and sick cats. Honeywing seemed pleased to hear that and said I should tell Foxtail and Maplestar. Maybe I could fill that need. I thought about that for a moment, suddenly thankful that Juniper had taught Yarrow and me how to use herbs. I could use that knowledge to help my new Clanmates.

That night I settled into my nest in the nursery, listening to Starkit and Mallowkit tell me about their adventures with Honeywing's kits. Even the usually serious Mallowkit was excited to have found some friends. I noticed her cast a glance at Hawkkit, a little brown tabby tom. She seemed to have taken a liking to the little kit. I was glad that she had made a new friend so easily. Starkit, of course, claimed she was now best friends with all three of Honeywing's kits, and she couldn't wait until tomorrow so she could play with them again. As they settled down and began to drift off into sleep, I realized just how lucky we were. Just a couple nights ago we were freezing, starving, and alone. Now we had a warm place to sleep, food in our bellies, and a family. We had a home.


End file.
